solved.” (And you'll need to explain why your supposedly intelligent characters don't wish exactly that.) This means you need to work out exactly what your supernatural object can and cannot do in advance. Limits provide conflict, and conflict leads to plot. You may have noticed, for example, that many fairy tales allow only three wishes. The character uses the first wish to see if the magic really works. He uses the second wish to ask for something big that turns disastrous in some way, forcing him to use the third wish to set things right again. No more wishes — just in time for the story to end. “The Monkey's Paw” by W.W. Jacobs uses this limitation pattern.
Your object can have a limited number of uses, as noted above. Or it might only work under certain conditions — during the day, when the moon is full, after it's dipped in fresh blood. It might need time to “recharge” after each use, and the more power it uses, the more time it takes to charge up. It might work only for one gender or members of only one family or even only one person. It might drain energy from the user, leaving her exhausted. Or perhaps using the object changes the owner in some undesirable way, like the One Ring from J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings .
Objects can also be lost, stolen, or destroyed. Take away your hero's magic widget just before the final battle and see what happens. Or maybe the original owner comes back for it. Or it breaks, and the only person who can repair it is in a coma. Another character might unwittingly sell it on eBay. Or even worse — hand the thing over to the villain. The villain's power rises just as the hero's power drops. This is wonderful for conflict.
One thing you must not do is give an object a convenient new power that solves the hero's current problem. A hero who falls over a cliff can't unexpectedly discover that his grandfather's time-stopping pocket watch also lets him fly. This cheats your reader and shows poor writing. However, it's perfectly legal for your hero to find a creative new use for the device's existing power. Perhaps our hero realizes he can slow time as well as stop it, allowing him to drift slowly to the ground. The idea should be plausible within the rules and limitations you set up before you even begin writing.
Finally, an object doesn't just pop into existence. It needs a history. Who made the object, and why? What happened to the original owner? Who else, if anyone, has owned the object before now? Does anyone else know about the object? Is anyone hunting for it? Fleshing these ideas out will give you great ideas for plot development.
Just remember that in the end, the protagonist has to solve the book's problem, preferably without the object. The entire point of reading this type of book is to see how a particular character reacts to having a supernatural object thrust into her life. Your focus should be on the character, not the object. For a truly satisfying ending, the character has to win on her own.
EXERCISE
Look carefully at your surroundings. Choose an ordinary object to develop into a supernatural object. It may be any object you like.
Describe the object in detail, as if you were seeing it and/or touching it for the first time.
What's the object's history? How old is the object? Where did it come from? Who created it? Who owned it before now?
What supernatural power(s) does the object have?
How are these powers activated or accessed?
What limitations does the object have?
SUPERNATURAL PEOPLE
You can also introduce a supernatural person. Does “person” have to mean “human”? Certainly not. The term person has a pretty broad definition in a paranormal book, but in this section I'm going to stick with mostly human-shaped people. (We'll talk about creatures later.)
As with supernatural objects, you can't just drop a supernatural character into a book without thinking carefully first. Even normal people carry around a